From a back door lit by Clare Island lighthouse to the old seaport of Valparaiso – the impact of education and graceful existence.

It is true to say that life and learning have defined Teresita Durkan, a special individual, who, at the ripe age of 88 years, radiates a welcoming presence and profound respect for everyone she meets. As our interview commences, one of the night-time staff at Catherine McAuley House arrives with tea and biscuits, prompting gentle conversation to pass the time of evening. Teresita has experienced more than many of her peers, spanning a broad tapestry of educational landscape. She has served as nun, teacher, principal, college president, missionary, teacher educator and writer – a career that has taken her from the Atlantic to the Pacific coastline. Along the way, she has inspired colleagues, friends, family and everyone fortunate enough to engage with her. 

Teresita’s experiences traverse eight decades, from a 1930s childhood spent on the sandy shores of Bunowen, townland of Louisburgh, County Mayo, through three decades with the Sisters of Mercy, during which time she was president of Carysfort College of Education. She subsequently worked on various education initiatives for the poor in Chile, during the Pinochet regime. Teresita has been integral to the evolving educational landscape of her time. 

Early years on the Atlantic coast 

Recollections suggest that a background deeply influenced by place and belonging, shaped her career. In her poem, Under the Holy Mountain, she describes the sound of the ocean-surf as “my first suantraí, a long arrhythmic, lulling, nightly snore”. She goes on to describe the life that she was fortunate enough to inherit in Bunowen: “I was lucky to make it, the ninth of nine, to be welcomed to life in a place and time where, as yet, demographics and birth control hadn’t frowned on nine as overload.” 

Teresita’s high achievement at the national examination for 12 or 13 year olds secured her a place at the preparatory college for teaching, Coláiste Mhuire, Tourmakeady. 

“It was like being in a little cloister … a beautifully situated one, on the edge of Lough Mask and run by the Sisters of Mercy. That’s where I did my secondary education, my Leaving Cert. D’éirigh mé líofa sa Ghaeilge. I liked the annual retreats – the contemplative, prayerful and studious atmosphere.” 

The draw at the time was Dublin 

In the late 1950s, Teresita moved to Dublin to complete her teacher training in Carysfort College of Education. She recalls: “Coming from a large family, economic factors determined my choice of primary teaching rather than training to be a secondary teacher at university.” 

Despite a rigorous training and regime, Teresita made time to embrace some of the newfound freedoms of the 50s: “It was the era of ballroom dancing. Many Sunday afternoons were spent in halls, such as the Crystal or the National Ballroom. We met lots of students from other places and the air corps often attended. Then, there was the rush to catch the number 6 bus back to the college – a lovely time to be in Carysfort.” 

Responding to the call 

Having secured a teaching job in Crumlin, Teresita instead “followed the calling” to become one of 9 young teachers to join the Sisters of Mercy in Carysfort. 

“It was a big shock, a novitiate with all the knobs on. It was a hard enough life. But one thing is certain…the wonderful companionship of friends and people you know carry you. You soldier on.” 

An early apprenticeship 

In the 1950s, Teresita gained five years teaching experience in Inchicore: “Goldenbridge was a big primary school in a poor neighbourhood, known back then as Keogh Square, a military barracks since the beginning of the nineteenth century.”  

She simultaneously pursued a night degree – a three-year Bachelor of Arts followed by a one-year Higher Diploma in UCD, Earlsfort Terrace. English was her academic subject. 

“You got up at 5:30am, taught school for the day, then in and out to UCD, essays and all…a good apprenticeship. I liked study.” 

Following a return to teach the student sisters in Carysfort, Teresita studied catechetics in UCD, current to Vatican Council developments. “The interesting part for me was the writings of theologians like Karl Rahner and Bernhard Haring.”  

Next steps involved a labour of love, her study for a Master of Arts in English: “The choice was mine at that point and I loved it.” Teresita was concurrently on the education staff in Carysfort, wherein she taught student teachers methodologies for the primary curricular subjects. 

Free education and leading a school 

In 1969, following the advent of free education, she was assigned as principal taking charge of a new secondary school in Rush, a traditional market-gardening area for the Dublin markets. 

“The idea of sending girls to secondary school was not a well-rooted idea in Rush. It took quite a while to implant it. It was an important time for education in Ireland – a new beginning as free education had just come in. But the emphasis was on a good marriage down the line, rather than putting their girls on a bus to travel to secondary school. 

“But families were loyal, and things changed once the school was set up. It was new, it had challenges, and it became a lovely place to work. The proximity to the sea and the memories of back home were very congenial to me at the time.” 

President, Carysfort College of Education 

Teresita recounts her return to Carysfort College following her appointment as President. This was to the backdrop of contentious student strikes, pushing for changes to the traditional conservative regime, the rigid boarding school environment and the teacher training model of the previous century. 

“It was a critical time. I landed amidst the threat of another strike. On the immediate horizon was the introduction of the B.Ed degree, first awarded in 1977.”  

She tackled the issues head-on, modernising the profile of both academic and student life at the college. Teresita remembers how, with the commitment of a strong team which included future Nobel Laureate, Seamus Heaney, it became a labour of love. The transformed college went on to encompass the best in a modern third level campus, boasting a comprehensive library, resource centre and well-staffed subject departments.  

The priority was the holistic development of the student teacher, both academically and practically. It was a college environment built on trust and respect. The relationship between management, staff and students became seamlessly constructive. Following the removal of the marriage ban in 1972, the college was progressive in providing career opportunities for academic lay women. 

Navigating the closure 

A complex and challenging time in Teresita’s life was what she termed “the saga of the closure of Carysfort”. She says that it has never been understood or explained to this day, leaving it hard for her to reflect upon, as a result. 

“To take a birds-eye view now considering the four-year degree that was to come afterwards… when the Minister for Education, Gemma Hussey, decided to close Carysfort, she was in effect cutting down teacher education in the middle of a process of change. They lost the tree and the ground underneath, which was very valuable ground.” 

The aftermath of this turbulent period proved a crossroads for Teresita.  

A year before the closure, she had taken a sabbatical year in South America. She learned Spanish in Cochabamba, Bolivia, before travelling to Chile to work with the Missionary Sisters of St. Columban to support the lower income families in the poblaciónes (communities). It was during the period of the Pinochet dictatorship. 

“There always was a second layer to my religious calling, to be on the side of those who weren’t getting educational chances, who were struggling and, in many ways, not too far removed from where I had started out. It was a rebellious time, with many suffering under the dictatorship…the era of Che Guevara and the idealism about the socialist project. It was complex in Chile.” 

Teresita returned to her duties in Carysfort, nurturing a plan to set up a mission for the Sisters of Mercy in Chile: “But the closure of Carysfort delayed all that!”  

Change brings new ventures on a new continent 

After the closure, Teresita, decided to leave the Mercy Sisters and return to Chile to fulfil her personal promise to work with the poor. 

“The very first project was in-service education for teachers who had been very put down by the dictatorship, their salaries frozen and their conditions poor. They were considered left-wing and so got the worst possible deal from the Ministry of Education. It was with a peace and justice group who were setting up a programme to build morale among country teachers in the Campo.”  

Teresita continued with similar projects and her voluntary work brought her to the old seaport of Valparaiso. In her book entitled Reflections on a life: Ó Mhuigheo go Valparaiso, she writes: “There is still in Valparaiso an old-fashioned sense of community, inclusive enough even for a solitary woman like me to find a niche, fit into a family circle and feel at home.” She would spend nearly three decades living and working in her newfound home. 

The death of her close friend, Rebecca Perez Roldan, who ran a residence on behalf of the Sisters of the Cross and Passion, and the onset of severe osteo-arthritis accompanied by a fall, determined Teresita’s return to Ireland in 2016. 

The habit of inquiry 

A confident and articulate woman, there is a natural humility about Teresita’s engagement with me, which somewhat belies her depth of knowledge, extensive experience and understanding of the human condition. 

Sitting on her bedside locker is Kenneth Steven’s Out of the Ordinary, which explores various poetic themes rooted in the Scottish Highland landscape and the Celtic tradition. 

Acknowledging her love of reading, she says: “A book must have a certain seriousness, but not in the heavy sense… a good quality book. I loved George Eliot’s Middlemarch and indeed Willa Cather’s My Ántonia. Writing has to chime with something in you.” 

She concludes by remembering her mother and father: “Poetry came to my mother naturally and she loved it in all senses. My father played the flute and had a good grasp of history.” 

It’s clear that this fuelled her own gift for memory and habit of inquiry – 88 years old with a mind as sharp and adventurous as ever. Spending time with Teresita has been a nourishing experience. Her story is, in equal measures, both interesting and moving.